Hero in Disguise

by Sharla Lovelace

  “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Jericho,” her dad said.

  Harper saw Jake grimace. “Just Jake, please,” he said. “I’m the same guy I was a few days ago, sir. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was.” He looked at her, his gaze sending her stomach into her throat. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”

  Her dad looked at him for several quiet seconds. “Jake, let me tell you something. I have the feeling that you’re a better guy than you were a few days ago. We all have to make choices in this life that are hard to explain to other people. Especially when it involves family.” He clapped Jake on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to do any of this. And maybe you didn’t plan to, but you came in here and got your hands dirty, and between that and what you’ve done for us, you’ve earned my respect.”

  Harper saw something flash across Jake’s face as he inhaled quickly.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said, his voice unsteady. “That means everything.”

  Harper’s chest was going to cave. Her dad was forgiving him. Jake lied to them and he still forgave him. Granted, Jake hadn’t slept with him under that guise.

  “One more thing,” her dad said. “Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are. Where you’re from. We all have baggage. You can let it sink you or you can use it as a step stool. That’s up to you, son.”

  Harpers eyes filled again at her father’s wise words, and Jake ran a finger and thumb over his own.

  “Yes, sir,” he said quietly.

  “Now I’m leaving,” her dad said. “Lock this door behind me.”

  All Harper could do was nod, as her throat had a beach ball lodged in it. But when she moved to turn the lock, Jake’s hand on hers stopped her.

  “I’m not staying,” he said, making her look up into a face that was too close and held too much everything. “Marco’s outside. I wanted to come tell you and Frankie in person. And say I’m sorry. Again.”

  His scent was subtle and warm and wrapped around her like a blanket. Everything in her wanted to curl up against him and let him truly wrap around her. But there was still reality. And that reality had tall walls.

  “I’m still me, Harper,” he said on a whisper, a raw edge to the words. “A name and clothes are just things.”

  “But lies are still lies,” she said, the words barely forming sound. “And even outside of that, we live in different worlds, Jake.”

  He nodded slowly and touched her cheek, then turned to open the door. Standing with it partially open, he looked back.

  “If you would have known who I was back then, would you still have loved me?”

  Harper’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard she had to suck in a breath to counter it. Funny how most rich guys would be afraid women would only love them for their money. Jake assumed the opposite.

  “I didn’t care who you were, Jake,” she said, her voice trembling with new tears. “I fell in love with the boy who played me a song.”

  • • •

  Jake threw random clothes into the same bag he had yet to unpack from the last airport ride. It didn’t matter what he brought, he’d still be the same boy to the ones that remembered him. The same boy that hopefully John remembered, if he woke up. The one he told after nearly a year on the ranch that he was ready to go. John just knew. And somehow he knew now as well. It was time to go.

  Harper’s dad had used almost the same words, telling him he’d earned his respect, and his own father had essentially hinted at being proud of him. Damn, if he could just make it to see John, it would be a trifecta.

  “Okay.” Marco emerged from the balcony, typing madly on his phone. “I’m an air travel god and you owe me a monstrous bonus.”

  “Spill it, air god,” Jake said, looking around for anything else necessary.

  “I have one of the jets lined up, in spite of your history, a room booked at the Saddle Creek Inn. I’m working on a driver.”

  “Skip the driver,” Jake said.

  “What?” Marco dropped his arms. “You plan on hitchhiking?”

  “I don’t want to look like a dick,” Jake said. “I’ll get a cab.”

  Marco’s right eyebrow rose. “They have cabs in Montana?”

  “Guess I’m gonna find out,” he said, slinging his big duffel bag over his shoulder. “You ready?”

  Marco sighed. “Please tell me you have at least one suit smashed in all that mess.”

  Jake had no idea. He couldn’t remember what he’d packed either time. All he could see was Harper’s tear-streaked face, telling him she fell in love with the boy who played her a song.

  Shit, he’d gotten weak.

  He hadn’t been this churned up since—well, since the last time he had to walk away from her.

  “Earth to Jake?” Marco snapped his fingers in his face. “Good Lord, you really do have it bad.”

  Jake scoffed and looked at Marco like he was crazy. “Have what bad?”

  “The feelings, my brother,” Marco said melodramatically.

  “You’ve lost your damn mind, my brother,” Jake retorted. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. She made her stand loud and clear.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Marco said. “We’ll see.”

  • • •

  Harper went through the motions in her kitchen. Bread. Meat. Mayo. Bread. Then she left the sad little sandwich on the paper plate and walked to the window. He could see that window if he was on the boardwalk. But he wasn’t.

  Would you still have loved me?

  “Damn it,” she said, strolling back to her sandwich.

  She picked a corner of crust off and absently chewed. Nearly choking when her door buzzer went off, then tripping on the edge of her couch on the way there. Jesus. She took a deep breath and hit the button.

  “Yes?”

  “Hey, Harper, I left my phone and my keys in the kitchen, can you come unlock?”

  Christian.

  The disappointment was friggin’ insane. Harper rested her head against the door and swallowed it back.

  “On my way,” she said.

  “Talk about a Murphy’s Law kind of day,” Christian said when Harper came out and opened the front gate to the shop.

  “I’ve had a few of those myself lately,” Harper said.

  “Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you—”

  “Please don’t,” Harper said.

  “That your ex is all kinds of fine, lies or no lies.”

  “He’s not my ex,” Harper said.

  “Whatever he is,” Christian said, fingers splayed.

  “Great.” Harper rubbed her eyes. “I feel better now. Oh, by the way, I just heard that the plan passed,” she added, smiling wearily. “The shop is safe.”

  Christian’s mouth dropped open as she squealed and tackled her. “Oh my God, that’s awesome.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So Jake came through,” Christian said, backing up.

  Harper took a deep breath and let it go. “I suppose he did.”

  “So what the heck are you waiting for?” Christian asked, heading to the back.

  Harper frowned. “What?”

  “You heard me,” she called from around the corner. “Gorgeous and rich? Hello?”

  “I don’t care about that,” Harper said.

  “Says no one, ever,” Christian said, coming back holding up her keys and phone.

  “Says me,” Harper reiterated. “There are more important things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like honesty?” Harper held out her hands. “Someone who doesn’t keep secrets?”

  “Who doesn’t have secrets?” Christian said with a crooked grin. “Seriously? No one’s that open of a book.”

  “Well, there are levels,” Harper said, looking away, picking an imaginary crumb off a table.

  “And there are excuses,” Christian said.

  Harper smiled patiently. “Are you ready?”

  “Didn’t you say he had to go up against a board and his dad or something?” Christian asked, following h
er out.

  Harper sighed. It would never be over. “Yes.” She did a double-take at Christian’s expression. “What?”

  “If I had to face off with my dad and a bunch of people, it sure as heck wouldn’t be for a bunch of strangers and their neighborhood,” she said. “I’d have to be in some serious like.”

  Harper turned the key and pulled down the gate.

  “Like the love kind of like,” Christian added.

  “Good night, Christian,” she said. “Drive safe.”

  “Fine, ignore the dumb teenager,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Harper watched till Christian’s car was out of sight, then she made a beeline for Sticks. Walking quickly into the low lighting, she spotted Frankie emerging from a back hall.

  “Frankie,” she whispered urgently as she nearly jogged to him.

  “Harper,” he said, grinning. “Hear the news, I assume?”

  “I did. We’re blessed.” She licked her lips. “I need a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need a ride to Manhattan.”

  Frankie frowned. “To where?”

  “West Fifty-seventh Street.” His eyes landed on hers. “I have to.”

  “He’s not there,” Frankie said, shaking his head.

  Harper felt some of the wind leave her sails. “How do you know?”

  “Because he told me Marco was bringing him to the airport, to their private strip.”

  “Airport? Where’s he going?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Frankie said. “He just said he was getting out of town for a while, taking a trip.”

  Goose bumps driven by panic covered her body.

  “No.”

  Frankie’s expression questioned her. “No?”

  “He can’t—I can’t wait a while,” she said. “I can’t do the Jake-disappearing-trick again. I—” She swallowed hard against the emotion that wanted to take charge.

  Frankie blew out a breath. “Maybe he hasn’t left yet.” He pulled out his phone and hit a button. Three rings turned into four, which turned into six. “He’s not answering.”

  “Please?” she asked.

  “All right,” he said with a wink. “I’m a damn sucker. Let’s see if we can catch him.”

  • • •

  It was probably only twenty minutes to Jake’s building, but to Harper it felt like an hour.

  “Stay!” she yelled as she jumped out to run in and ask security, only to jump back in thirty seconds later. “Damn it, he’s gone,” she breathed. “Airport!”

  “I’m not a dog, you know,” Frankie said, pulling out. “I do respond better to full sentences.”

  “Sorry,” she said, raking her hair back. “I’m just—”

  “All over the place?”

  “Something like that,” she said.

  “Love’ll do that,” Frankie said. “I remember one time when my wife and I were dating, we . . .”

  There was more. Tons more. But Harper’s mind stopped processing anything after the other sentence.

  Love’ll do that.

  “Drive faster, Frankie.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake saw the call from Frankie earlier, but he let it go to voice mail. He wasn’t in the mood. “No message” confirmed it wasn’t important. All Jake wanted on the ride to the airstrip was solitude and his music. Not even Marco could pull him out of his funk.

  He got on the jet and tried to zone out. He needed to focus on John and where he was going, but all he could see in his mind was a pair of blue eyes.

  “Sir, the plane will be delayed about a half hour,” a voice over the jet’s speaker said after the flashing light on his chair told him to take off his headphones. “I apologize. We have to wait for clearance.”

  Jake rolled his head on his shoulders. He could go back to the car, as he knew Marco would wait there till the jet left. He could kick back and take a nap. He could—

  An odd noise interrupted the randomness of his thoughts. A horn, sounding repeatedly. A car horn. Jake leaned over to look out the window and saw headlights aiming for them at high speed.

  “What the hell?”

  Marco’s lights came on, illuminating the front of the other car as it stopped. It—looked like Frankie’s town car. But why—and then the passenger door opened. Blonde hair glowed in Marco’s headlights for about two seconds before she ran toward the plane.

  • • •

  Her heart felt like it was trying to come out by way of her throat when Harper jumped out of the car and ran toward the jet while it sat regally on the tarmac, lights blinking.

  For a split second, her feet slowed. What was she doing, running after a corporate mogul a million times out of her league? What was she thinking, that Jake Jericho would—

  Then a door opened, and a little stairway folded out, and there he was.

  Looking at her, like—

  Boys have first loves, too.

  He walked down those stairs and kept walking, while her feet took root in the concrete. Her heart and her breathing were all she could hear, and his eyes were all she could focus on in the low light.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, breaking the barrier.

  Harper opened her mouth to say it. Say it!

  “Are there any more secrets?” she blurted out instead. She saw the startled look pass across his face. “Anything else to blindside me with?”

  “You told me you were done.” He closed the space between them. “Are you saying—”

  “Anything else, Jake?” she asked again, feeling his shirt against her skin and realizing she’d curled her fingers into it.

  “Not after I tell you about Montana,” he said, his voice strained.

  She blinked. “Montana?” Seriously?

  “It’s somewhere I went as a kid,” he said. “It’s where I’m going now. To check on a friend.” His hands came up her arms and her eyes fluttered closed. “It’s all I’ve got left. I swear to you, Harper, I’m stripped as bare as it gets.”

  She chuckled nervously. “The billionaire is stripped bare? That’s—”

  His hands went up into her hair, pulling her in, whisking the words from her lips as his mouth landed on hers. Harper’s arms went around him as they dove into each other, Jake crushing her against him.

  Never—ever—had Harper needed—wanted—someone so much. Not just like this. They’d had this. They’d been down this path of sexual everything. She wanted this man. In her life. In her world. She wanted to be in his. Every day.

  When he pulled back, she wasn’t the only one shaking.

  “That stuff means nothing without you.” He shut his eyes tight and pressed his forehead against hers. “All I want is you.”

  A feeling of complete calm washed over Harper as she watched this tightly wound man fight himself for her. Just as she’d been doing all along.

  She pushed up onto her toes and kissed his lips softly, relishing the rush that buzzed through her as his whole body relaxed against her.

  “I love you, Jake Jericho,” she whispered against his lips. “All of you.”

  His eyes opened, and even in the low light she saw the emotion burning there.

  “I love you, Harper Haley,” he said slowly, as though the words were unfamiliar. She knew the feeling. She’d only spoken them one other time, and he was there then, too. “I loved you twelve years ago, but I wasn’t ready to own it. To be worthy of it.”

  “Well, you can’t take it back now, so I sure as hell hope you’re ready to own it,” she said, smiling.

  “Aw, it’s so sweet when Mommy and Daddy get together,” said a voice behind Harper that reminded her they had an audience.

  She laughed as she turned to see Frankie and Marco standing in their respective doorways. Marco was mouthing feelings to Jake with a thumbs-up.

  “Y’all can go,” Jake said, chuckling.

  “Wait,” Harper said. “If you’re going to Montana, I need a ride h
ome.”

  Jake touched her face, as if he was in awe of what had just transpired. “Come with me.”

  “What?” she laughed.

  “It’s just three or four days,” he said. “Can you clear it with your dad?” He leaned down to kiss her again as if to reassure himself it was all real. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “Now?” she said, looking down. “I have nothing with me. I’m wearing flip-flops.”

  “You’re perfect,” he said. “I’ll buy you whatever—”

  “I’ll buy me whatever,” she corrected.

  Jake grinned and did a little mock bow. “Yes, ma’am. Does that mean you’ll go?”

  Two doors closed behind her, and she laughed as she turned to see them leaving.

  “I guess so,” she said. “As long as you realize that I’m an independent girl. You having money means nothing.”

  “We are flying on a private jet,” he said. “Would you rather hitch a ride and meet me there?”

  Harper laughed and pinched him in the stomach. “I’ll make a concession.”

  “Do we need to shake on the terms?” he asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Harper’s smile was naughty as she claimed his mouth.

  “I have a better idea.”

  Author’s Note

  Hello, Readers!

  I hope you enjoyed reading about Jake and Harper!

  Okay, now I need to write a special note to any New Yorkers out there. Yep, I made it all up. If you’ve read my other books, you know that all my towns are fictional. I make them up and therefore have complete control over landmarks and all that. So . . . Hero in Disguise taking place in New York City was a bit more challenging. I’m a Texas girl, but I have been to NYC. Once. LOL. So here’s a big blanket “Please forgive me” if I’ve messed up your city. Further disclaimer: My waterfront buildings in Brooklyn . . . completely fictional. Speakeasies and Prohibition and pirate smuggling activity happening there . . . all fell out of my brain. I like to think all that could have happened, but it was all fun and speculation and total artistic license. So if you do head to Brooklyn, a few blocks from the waterfront off the Brooklyn Bridge or Manhattan Bridge, you’ll definitely find a cool, quaint little historical district, but please don’t expect to find the Steaming Mug and Sticks!